Resurgence
by SandmanCircus
Summary: In the future, technology has advanced to the point where dead loved ones can be brought back to life. When some come back wrong, however, they're sent to a special facility... SoulMaka. One-Shot.


**Resurgance**

When Soul had first stepped into the AR/RERC (Automaton Rehabilitation/Re-programmed Emotion Research Centre), he'd been immediately hit with the icy shock of air conditioning. Its plastic smell and too cold chill raised the hairs on his nape and had him rubbing his arms in unease. The white washed walls, the florescent lighting, not a pinch of dust in sight - it felt like he was walking into a prison.

"You that fancy practicum student?"

Soul blinked up at the cranky secretary glaring at him, noticing her for the first time. "Sorry?"

She rolled her eyes, chewing noisily on a piece of gum. She eyed him up and down. "Are. You. The. In_tern_?"

Soul ran a hand through his hair, deciding to push his unease to the back of his mind, and walked up to the desk. "Yeah, that's me."

"_Super_. Now let me see..." The woman tapped noisily on the keyboard. "You have a meeting with Dr. Stein, yes?"

"Mhm," he affirmed.

"Right, he'll be with you in just a sec if you want to take a seat Mr. Evans."

"Eater." The automatic correction came out before he could stop himself.

She stopped typing and looked up. "Excuse me?"

A sigh. "It's Soul _Eater, _not Evans - my last name."

"Yeah, whatever kid, just take a seat."

Soul nodded, not in the mood to get snippy with the woman, and moved to do as instructed when he heard his name called. "Soul."

He looked up at the sunken face of his would be employer and a hollow, cynical gaze stared back it him - belying the amiable smile on his face. "Come with me and we'll get started." After a brief second of hesitation that he couldn't help, Soul followed Doctor Stein through the treatment centre. Moments later found the two sifting through an old dusty office, dark in comparison to the blinding light of the hallways outside and Soul had to blink several times before he could properly see.

"Sorry about the mess, I'm rarely here anymore," Stein coughed, motioning to the chair across his own after turning on the lamp at his desk. "Have a seat, just toss that stuff on the ground - needs to be thrown out anyway."

Soul gently placed the old folders on the floor and sat down in the chair provided. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he just stuffed them between his knees to keep from fidgeting.

"I hear we're lucky to have you. Top student was it?" Stein began once settled, licking his fingers to better leaf through Soul's folder.

"I don't know about the top student..."

"No need to be modest Mr. Evans - or wait, it was Eater wasn't it? Seems to be quite a sensitive subject by the look on your face. What sort of family issues would one have to have to go so far as to change their own name, I wonder?" Soul struggled to keep his expression impassive at the knowing look in Stein's eye; he wasn't too fond of the implication in the man's words, nor the sly smirk that followed it. Steins smile faded as his gaze fell once again to Soul's papers. "Forgive me. Old habit - comes with the business I suppose."

Soul sincerely doubted the man before him had ever felt a single ounce of remorse in his life. "No worries," he replied anyways, eyes moving to a glass cube on the edge of the desk. His face twisted when he realized what was inside.

Noticing the direction of his gaze, Stein smiled. "Ah, you noticed my lion testicles. I had the pleasure of dissecting the beast myself and was allowed to keep them. They are said to bring good luck but I mostly just use it as a paperweight. You like them?"

"No."

Stein shrugged. "To each his own, I suppose. Shall we begin?" Soul nodded, eager to get this over with. "Perfect. Let me show you your assigned patient for the remainder of your practicum."

Stein pulled out a folder from his desk and let it fall open before Soul. Within were different documents and papers all pertaining to a girl named Maka Albarn. The information included common facts like date of death, age, re-programmers, extra materials used at creation, which body parts were salvageable (brain, eyes, skin, bones, most internal organs), which were not (left leg, right foot, heart, three lower ribs), their last battery recharge to more intimate knowledge such as the way they dressed (formal), their likes/dislikes, and the small signs of reappearing emotion and traces of their former personality. Fastened to the top corner with a paper clip was a small photo of a pretty girl with down cast eyes and sandy hair.

Soul furrowed his brow as he examined the pages. "Sorry, but what do you mean 'patient'?" he asked, confused. "This is my first practicum, I thought I was just going to watch and take notes. I'm not exactly ready to actually take on a pa - "

Stein cut him off with a raised hand before levelling him with a patient stare. "Look. Soul. You seem like a nice guy so I'll just lay it flat. There is only one reason you're here, I couldn't give a crap about any credentials or marks, _gold stars_ - whatever. We asked for a student from your class because we don't have enough staff to deal with her. With the recent rise in automaton suicide following the implanting of emotion, we simply aren't equipped to handle so many patients."

Soul frowned, murmuring, "You're casting this girl aside?"

Stein shrugged turning to examine the girl's documents himself. He drummed his desk with his fingers. "Try to think reasonably; with the recent upgrade in technology, we've been loaded with over 100 auto's from rich, grieving families. We've already brought in 20 interns for support and we're still short. If you won't help we'll just stick her with another intern or practicum student - one who is, unfortunately, less qualified."

Soul paused, looking back down at the documents. He ran his index finger over the glossy photo. "What's wrong with her?"

"Unfortunately," Stein inhaled shakily before tapping out the ash of his fag onto the carpet, "she's been having difficulty picking up her old emotions - though it sounds like she wasn't exactly Miss Congeniality before her death. Her re-programmer's sent her to us to fix it."

"She has no emotions?"

"None, and unfortunately, our experience on her defect is limited, we usually focus on the automaton's who've had past emotion unintentionally amplified - stalkers, sociopaths, depressed kids. We have few cases when we need to insert emotion as opposed to reining it in."

"Sounds like a virus. Shouldn't she be in research?"

Stein shook his head, scratching his scalp absently. "That's where we had originally put her. If it's a virus, our scientists can't find it. The only other possibility is a psychological disability picked up after the old emotions were downloaded into her psyche."

Soul nodded in understanding. "Which would put her into the AR." Automaton Rehabilitation, where people brought back from the dead wrong were helped to reign in their faults.

"Correct." Stein smiled at him like he was a puppy who'd just been taught to fetch - disconcerting to say the least. The doctor then inhaled a cigarette, holding it between his teeth as he said, "So will you help?"

A momentary pause. "Yeah, I'll do it."

"Perfect. I'll show you to her room so you can meet her."

* * *

"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?" Soul sighed at the raspy voice behind him. He was currently standing in front of the door to his _patient's_ assigned room, and Stein wouldn't shut up behind him. Why the man had decided to stay, hounding on him, rather than going off to help everyone who _needed him so desperately_ just moments before was beyond him.

"Why are you still here, Stein?"

"You seem to be having trouble opening the door, thought I'd give you a few pointers," Stein smiled, hands clasped behind his back. Soul give the doctor an angry frown before lifting his fist to the door - only to pause before his knuckles could touch the wood, unsure.

"I'm eight years older than her. Isn't this sort of..." he trailed off.

"Sort of...?"

"...Inappropriate?"

"What," Stein deadpanned.

"She's young. What if she... you know."

"She's a toaster."

Soul frowned. "That's a bit derogatory coming from a doctor who specializes in your field."

Stein sighed, patting Soul on the shoulder. "You're a good guy, Soul. But God, you need to grow a pair." Stein reached over Soul, knocked on the door three times and walked off, yelling at someone named Marie to get him coffee.

Asshole.

"Can I help you?"

Soul's head swivelled to face the sandy haired girl before him. Her gaze was set on his chin but he could easily see hazy green eyes beneath her lashes.

"Hi. Maka, right? My name is Soul and I'm the new practicum student." Soul smiled and extended his hand. When she did nothing, he swallowed awkwardly and spoke, "You're supposed to shake it - "

"I know." Maka stared at his hand before lightly grasping the edge of it with her thumb and fore finger, shaking it. It lasted all of a second before she let get and widened the door so he could enter. "Nice to meet you."

Soul looked around the girl's room as he followed her in. It was small - no more than 10' by 10'. Despite the white painted brick and small frosted window, the room seemed...cozy somehow. She had a desk attached to one side and a bed built into another with two drawers for storage underneath. Her comforter was a warm peach colour with two off-white pillows. The most defining feature about her room, however, were the rows upon rows of books taking up every free surface. She had most of them on her desk but he could also see a few leaning against her window sill and several stacked on the floor.

"So you like to read?" Soul asked.

Maka nodded, a short movement which barely disturbed her hair. "That's what most people say when they come into my room."

"Mm." Soul settled down on a small stool while Maka sat stiffly on her bed. He looked around at the books, noting many were about history or medical conditions.

"How about you tell me about yourself?" Unaware his patient had been watching him, Soul turned back to Maka, consequently meeting her eyes. They were her real eyes, he remembered, taken from her and frozen when she died. The torn axons in her retina were retied upon her revival.

"I only remember minute details of my previous existence," she told him, tucking her hair behind her ears, an action paradoxically innocent compared to her unfeeling tone. "All of which you can acquire in my files."

Soul would've cringed if she hadn't been watching him so raptly, and instead smiled, brushing aside his impatience. "Or I could hear it from you."

She stared at him, face barren of emotion. "Lazy."

Soul's lips twitched. "I guess I am. Will you humour me?"

Maka frowned, dropping her gaze to her clasped hands which had begun to fidget. "I suppose. What do you wish to know?"

Soul raised an eyebrow, watching his charge's subtle facial expressions. It was not uncommon for Autos to pick up past mannerisms, but they were usually emotionally stable before they did. Had it been anyone else, he might have dismissed the motions, but 'toasters' weren't meant to frown. "How did you die?"

"It was 2050, shortly after my 18th birthday when I was in a car accident. My father was distraught and had my body frozen with hopes that I would be re-born. As you may know, the technology was simply theoretical at the time. When I was finally awakened in this body, 70 years had passed - my father dead for over a decade."

"That must have been hard."

Maka hesitated and Soul zeroed in on the action - a subtle twitch others would have disregarded. "This is not a life I wish for myself." She traced a nearly invisible line down her forearm - where they had sliced her skin open to insert her nerve wires. Soul knew the same line would trace over her entire body, permanent evidence of the most literal violation.

"And what life would you desire?"

She looked up at him then, seeming to sense her mistake. "To desire is to have emotion."

"And you don't?"

"No."

"You'll forgive me if I disagree."

* * *

He couldn't know. It was a bluff - not the first time someone had tried to trip her into admitting to the existence of her feelings. Then why, she wondered with a pounding heart and sweaty palms, was she so nervous?

In her short experience with feelings, she'd never had a reaction to the extent she was currently experiencing.

He was just a student, he _couldn't_ know. She'd seen dozens of doctors, none of which disbelieved her claim of lacking emotion. Her mask was flawless, surely.

Her emotions were new, only appearing for the first time in her three years of artificial life in the previous week. Before, her cold persona had been real. It wasn't hard to keep up the act, her emotions were still fairly diluted in comparison to that of a regular human and she'd been moved to AR prior to the spawning of emotions, but some had already grown suspicious. Like Stein.

She resisted the urge to scratch her arm, itchy with artificial wires (a new compulsion).

Why did this beautiful boy make her falter?

Was it a flaw that she was immediately swept away by the first pretty face she'd seen following her birth?

Struggling to maintain her composure, she said, "You may assume what you will."

He smiled lazily in reply and her heart, artificially cloned from DNA frozen at her death, pounded in her chest. She recalled the sensation from her previous life, but the organ must have a defect - because why would it ache in such a way otherwise?

"How about you tell me about yourself?" she repeated his words, using the same tone. Perhaps it was unwise to encourage her attraction considering he was just on his practicum. For some reason she wanted more from him. Some people after being revived had certain emotions amplified, and she took a moment to ponder whether or not her sexual desire had increased. She decided it was unlikely - considering the amount of sexuality she'd had before her death, it would have to have been quite an amplification.

He seemed to consider her words before giving a short nod. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Anything." If he noticed the breathless quality of her words, he didn't mention it.

He smiled at her. "I enjoy music. I've played the piano since I was young."

She tilted her head, curious. "Even in my previous life I was never good with music."

Soul laughed, and while Maka tried to convince herself that it was false, done only to be polite, she was instantly enchanted. "Tell me something else."

Soul checked his watch before looking up at her. "This was simply meant to be a brief introductory meeting, so we don't have time. I'll tell you what though, in our next meeting, for everything you tell me about yourself I will share something about myself. Cool?"

Maka nodded.

He stood, brushing off his pants and walked to her door. "I can book you in for an appointment Monday through Friday at 2:00?"

She froze.

Soul hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. "Is something wrong?" The sudden stiffening of her shoulders catching his attention.

"Not at all. I'll see you then."

Soul nodded, still unsure, but gave her a small wave and left her room. The hollow thud of the door signalled her renewed solitude.

Meeting. Appointment.

Throughout their conversation, she hadn't forgotten his position as a student - but with those words she now realized he was taking over her treatment. She shook her head, new feelings of frustration raw in her chest. What had she thought? That someone would come and see her just for the sake of conversation?

It was Stein. It must be. A pretty face to compromise her hold on her actions.

She wouldn't be made a fool a second time.

She wasn't going back - not even for a beautiful boy.

* * *

Soul stared into the lukewarm coffee reflecting obscure eyes. The mug noticed the fall in temperature and began to hum as it warmed itself up again. Why had she looked so... hurt? He rubbed at his chest, snarling inwardly at the feeling.

"Why the sour face?" Stein leaned against the table Soul sat at, his hands buried deep in his lab coat pockets.

"Nothing."

Stein nodded. "What do you think of your patient?"

Soul ran a hand down his face, he really didn't want to deal with Stein. Just as he was turning to ask for him to leave, however, a thought occurred to him. "What would happen if Maka had emotions?"

Stein scratched his 5 o' clock shadow thoughtfully. "She'd be taken back to her re-programmers."

Soul swallowed. "And if she doesn't?"

"She'll be unplugged - her life considered irredeemable." Automaton's had long since ceased the need for an electrical plug in, it was simply a euphemism for throwing her into an incinerator.

_It is not a life I wish for myself._

Soul's hands turned to fists.

* * *

"How've you been since I last saw you?"

"Pleasant. How long will this appointment be?"

Soul was caught off guard by the cool tone - icy in comparison to the indifferent act she'd had yesterday. "Uh, about an hour."

"Hm."

"Is that a problem?"

Maka brushed nonexistent dust from her knee and crossed it over the other. "I simply have more useful things to be doing."

His lips twitched. "Yeah? Like what?"

"Like watching paint dry."

Soul couldn't help murmuring, "That's an awful lot of anger for someone without emotion."

Maka froze, instantly ridding her face of any expression. "You simply see what you wish to see. I assume if you _fix _me, you get a good grade?"

Soul laughed. "Honey, I'm top of my class. I could do nothing for the rest of the year and still get a solid B. When it comes to school, I'm golden."

"Why settle for a B when you are capable of an A?" she asked, confusion in her eyes.

He smiled at her, pleased for some reason. "I'm guessing you were a nerd in high school."

Maka gasped. "I was intelligent. There is nothing wrong with that."

"What kind of music did you like?"

The holographic clock behind him ticked in a rhythm that was meant to sooth as Maka thought about her answer. Eventually she replied, "Country."

"_Country_?"

She nodded. "Only when it was happy. It cheered me up when I was sad."

"Why were you sad?"

"No." Maka shook her head. "It's my turn to ask a question."

Soul laughed. "You're right. What would you like to know?"

She struggled, thinking hard. She didn't want to ask him the same question and look like a fool so she said, "Why do you want to become a Psychiatrist?"

He sobered. "It's what my parents wanted for me. I went to school to get them off my back, but then I started to enjoy it. What about you, what are your 'parents' like?" He swallowed, adding, "What do they want you to do?"

"Parents... you mean my re-programmers. Since my guardian and all known blood relatives were unaccounted for, when I was reborn they decided to keep me. They are kind, but distant. I'm to be used for further experimentation and research." Her fingers clenched. "For that, I need emotion."

"Let's get away from all this sad stuff," he said quickly. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Isn't it my turn?"

"My favourite colour is yellow. Go."

"I don't have a favourite colour."

"Sure you do!"

"But - "

He cut her off. "Pick one."

She looked into his eyes, the word on her lips in an instant. "Red."

He smiled. "Right, next question..."

* * *

The following weeks passed in much the same way. Their questions eventually turning into amiable and comfortable conversations. Soul teased and flirted and Maka replied with snippy retorts, a faint blush evident on her cheeks.

The deadline set for Maka's rehabilitation was drawing near, a fact which clawed at Soul's chest. In less than a day her fate would be decided. They'd grown close over the weeks - too close - and he refused to see her unplugged.

In a meeting four weeks since he'd met her, Soul stared at the young automaton across from him. She was talking freely about a physics book she'd read, her eyes bright. She spoke without censor, the cool, emotionless act dropped mid-way through their third week together.

"Maka."

"Yes, Soul?"

He opened his mouth, closed it, sighed and said, "I know you feel emotion."

Her eyes dimmed somewhat and she placed her book carefully on her lap. "Yes, I'd assumed you knew. But don't worry," she smiled at him, "I know you won't tell."

A knife tore through his heart making his words angry. "Maka, they will _kill_ you!"

"Soul," her words were soft, placating, "I'm already dead."

Another knife. "I won't let them hurt you."

She smiled. "There's nothing either of us can do Soul. I've accepted it."

"How can you say that?"

"It would be even less of a life than I have now," she sighed.

Soul clenched his fists. The thought of her gone was slowly killing him. "I could tell them-"

"But you won't."

"No," he growled, "I won't."

"Thank you."

He looked away, furious. "They'll come for you tomorrow."

"Yes, I know."

"This is fucking insane!" Soul snarled, standing up and pacing.

"Soul..."

"What!?"

"I want to say something before you go," she paused, hesitating as he looked at her expectantly. "Thank you, for listening. I know it was your job to be with me everyday but it meant a lot to me. I had so much fun talking with you... I love you, Soul."

He was staring at her with wide eyes, his mouth open in shock. "You..." She watched his face change with each passing emotion, shock and horror were reoccurring themes. "Shit," he swore finally. "Maka, I..." he scanned her face, "I have to go."

The door slammed shut firmly behind him and she could hear a muffled 'fuck!' from beyond it and the sound of a fist smashing into a wall.

Maka lifted a hand to her cheek, touching damp skin.

* * *

Later that night, Maka heard a soft knock on her door as she stared up at her ceiling. "Come in."

Soul quietly opened her door, slipping into her dark room with suspiciously practiced ease. "You're not supposed to be here," she told him.

"Yeah, I know," he muttered sheepishly sitting down beside her on the bed. "Look, Maka I - "

"You don't have to apologize."

He blinked, frowning. "Apologize?"

"When I told you I loved you, I didn't know it'd be such a shock. If you've come to apologize for _demolishing _my feelings there's no need."

Soul stared at her incredulously, trying and failing to smother the sudden bubble of laughter that burst past his lips.

Maka sat up when she heard a muffled snicker. "Are you laughing at me!?" she cried, outraged.

Soul covered her mouth with one hand. "Shh!" She growled at him and he had to use his other hand to quickly cover his own mouth when he started laughing all over again.

"Maka this is serious! Stop making me laugh - no, shh! Okay, I'm sorry, just be quiet. You're so funny when you're dramatic."

Maka silently glared at him until he lifted his hand. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm taking you to my apartment."

"But tomorrow-"

Soul cupped her face, leaning down to kiss her forehead. Maka gasped, her hands lifting to hold on to his shoulders. After a moments thought, he ducked his head once more to press his lips to hers. His cheek rested against her temple as his arms wrapped around her, the whispered words amused as he said, "I refuse to see you die."

"How will we get out, though?"

Soul leaned back and grinned. "I have some help."

"But, Soul..."

"Do you want to get out or not?"

"I do, but-"

"Then let's go!" He pulled her up off the bed. "Trust me, Maka," he said before she could protest any further.

Maka studied his face, frowning. Finally she nodded, and allowed him to pull them out the door.

"I left my care idling in the parking lot and Stein shut off all the security, so we won't have any problems," Soul whispered as they hurried down the hallways.

"Stein's helping us?" Maka hissed back in shock.

"He's not that bad, once you get passed the creep factor - and he has a really nice assistant. I think they're dating actually."

Once they'd left the building they hurried into the car waiting a dozen feet away.

"What will happen when they find out I'm gone? Won't you look suspicious?" Maka asked, fumbling with the foreign seat belt.

"Maybe," Soul replied, reaching over to help her, "but we'll both be in Canada by that time."

"Canada?"

"They can't chase us over the border," he grinned.

* * *

A/N: I wrote this a long time ago, but recently used it for a SoMa "BALLS" prompt on tumblr sent by fabulousanima. I totally cheated but whatever.


End file.
